Wherever You Will Go
by Serenitey
Summary: Draco Malfoy watched his wife twirling around the room with her brother, Bill, a dazzling smile plastered on her thin face. He could hear her breathing was still slightly ragged from her impromptu dance with Bill. He frowned. She was getting weaker.
1. Lost and Found

**Wherever You Will Go**

**Lost and Found**

Draco Malfoy watched his wife twirling around the room with her brother, Bill, a dazzling smile plastered on her thin face. Her laughter rang out and he couldn't help the smile that overtook his face. She was so beautiful. So beautiful and so unequivocally his. He heard a sniff from behind him. Forcing himself to look away from Ginny, and turned to the source of the noise. Molly Weasley was watching her baby and only daughter, as Bill spun her around. He raised an eyebrow at his mother in law's tear stained face. She shook her head, turning away from him. She roughly wiped away all evidence of her tears and stood commandingly.

"Who wants cake?" she called loudly, deliberately avoiding Draco's gaze. Cries of 'me!' came from each of the Weasley children, grandchildren and spouses. In never failed to amaze Draco how much food they consumed. It completely explained why this family had been impoverished.

"You're not having cake?" Ginny asked, waving her own piece under his nose. Draco reached up and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

"No," he replied. "You're mother forced a third helping of Shepard's Pie down my throat. Contrary to your mother's belief I do not eat nearly as much as your brothers do!"

Ginny giggled softly into his neck, her lips lightly brushing against him. Goose bumps arose across his body in response to her touch. She leaned further into him, the arm not wrapped around her waist coming up to hold her plate. He could hear her breathing was still slightly ragged from her impromptu dance with Bill. He frowned. She was getting weaker.

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Draco stood, the shaking of his arm becoming so violent that it threatened his grip on his wand. A flash of green light came from behind him. He blinked as the bright light pierced his retinas. He watched in slow motion as Dumbledore's bright blue eyes became dull, his body falling forward and hitting the stone beneath their feet with a resounding _thud. _Draco stared, mouth agape, wand still held in front of him.

He was dimly aware that Snape was talking to him, before he was jolted back as Snape took hold of his shoulders and shook him. Draco focused on the potion master's long nose as he spoke.

"Draco," he said softly, pushing Draco's still raised wand to his side. "Draco!" he said again with more urgency. "Though I am loathe to rush you I must have an answer now. Do you still wish to join The Dark Lord's cause and become a Deatheater?" Snape looked at him, his eyes imploring him to refuse; to denounce his father's teachings.

"Of course," Draco spat with less venom and conviction than he thought the question deserved. His godfather's eyes closed momentarily. "I want to become a Deatheater and serve the Dark Lord," Draco said, staring into the eyes of the older man.

"Very well," Snape sighed, pulling a tarnished pocket watch from within his robes. "Portkey," he mumbled, thrusting the discolored watch in Draco's direction.

The familiar tug on his navel rewarded Draco's newly regained motor functions. He stumbled slightly as the trip ended, depositing them in a well-lit, marble entrance hall, which he immediately recognized as Malfoy Manor.

"Wait in your chambers," Snape ordered him dismissively. "I shall collect you when he is ready to see you." Draco nodded slowly, turning to make his way up the grand staircase.

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Draco waited in his room for well over an hour before Snape came to collect him. He thought he saw a look of pity in the usually impassive potion master's eyes. Draco's heart began to race as Snape led him to his father's study.

He felt him before he saw him. Bile rose in his throat and he resisted the urge to turn and run. The large study held only his father and the Dark Lord. Snape stayed behind Draco as he walked to the center of the room, desperately hoping the shaking of his body had subsided enough for it not to be noticeable. He straightened his shoulders as red slit like eyes were turned to him.

"Young master Malfoy," the hideous excuse for a man in front of him hissed. "It would appear that you have failed in your task." Draco hung his head as a wave of shame washed over him. He opened his mouth to make his apologies when a fire swept through his body. Every nerve ending seemed to be screaming in unison with his vocal cords. As quickly as the pain had overtaken his body, it vanished. He wiped the tears from his face before he looked up.

His father was looking at him, disappointed, the trade mark Malfoy sneer distorting his pale face. Contrary to popular belief Draco was not used to corporeal punishment. His father had always preached that it was for the lowly. Seeing his father stand idly by while this…this thing put him in pain, made him realise that having failed, he was truly alone.

"Under normal circumstances, I would not hesitate to end your life in a most painful fashion but Lucius has convinced me to give you one last chance." Draco looked at his father, a shred of hope returning. Maybe he wasn't alone. His father had fought for him hadn't he?

Voldemort flicked his wand towards Draco. He flinched in anticipation of another encounter with the Cruciatus Curse. Instead of the pain he had felt before, a sobbing teenage girl appeared before him, her hands bound magically in front of her. He clothes were ripped, her face bruised. Blood encrusted her forehead, dying her blonde locks a sickly maroon.

He looked from the girl, to his father, to the Dark Lord in confusion.

"She is a muggle," his father spat. "She provided adequate entertainment for the men but we have finished with her. You are to dispose of her." Draco swallowed the nausea that pooled in his stomach, as he comprehended his father's words. He stared at the girl on her knees before him, pleading for her life. She looked so scared, so helpless. Raped, beaten and killed. _Nobody deserved that_ he thought in disgust. He looked back up his father.

"Well?" he prompted waving a hand at the girl. Draco took a deep breath, silently apologizing to the girl. He raised his wand, pleased that it only shook minimally. Taking another deep breath he said the words loudly and clearly.

"Avada Kedavra."

A jet of green light flew from the tip of his wand. He thought he heard Snape sigh, but dismissed it as the girl raised her still bound hands, in an effort to shield herself from the spell.

"Well done Dr-" his father began proudly before noticing that the girl had not fallen. She was blinking furiously, rubbing her eyes. He stared at the girl in shock before collapsing in a scream as intense pain swept over his body.

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Three weeks later his broken body was left on the porch of a rundown house, a thick robe wrapped around him; a letter left in his red stained and oddly angled fingers. It was her who found him. He let out a strangled cry as they moved him. He heard them gasp as the material fell away from his torso revealing his battered chest. He heard mutterings and then nothing. There was only the blissful black and a flash of red.

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She was the first thing he saw when he regained consciousness. She was hovering over him, a scowl creasing her face, muttering about baby-sitting the amazing bouncing ferret.

"I'm awake you know," he said in a scratchy voice, surprised at the lack of pain in his mutilated body. She jumped back, a small squeal escaping her. A scowl was all he got in reply. A scowl and a glare he was sure would make even the Dark Lord quiver. "Where am I?" he asked hesitantly.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place," she replied curtly, not looking at him. "Here," she said moving a bright pink straw towards his mouth. He eyed it warily, not trusting it to be potion free. She rolled her eyes at him. "It's just water you git. Any potion we gave you now would most probably be the end of you. Though I can't really see why that's a bad thing," she said giving her a dark look.

"I feel fine," he said, tilting his head upwards and inwardly rejoicing as the cool liquid slid down his parched throat.

"That would be because there are more numbing charms on you than is strictly safe," she said snidely, drawing the water away from him. He looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"Malfoy," she began softly, "you've been in a magic induced coma for two weeks. When you were brought to The Burrow you were shaking uncontrollably from the Cruciatus curse, half the bones in your body were broken, you had a collapsed lung, more bruises than I've ever seen, internal bleeding, still open and bleeding whip gashes covering your back and what looked like knife wounds on your stomach and chest. You nearly died…Hell, you did die! Trust me Malfoy if you could feel anything now, you'd be screaming." He looked at her in disbelief, mouth opening and closing as he failed to come up with anything to say.

"It's late Malfoy and I'm tired. I was only checking on you before I went to bed. There's water in the cup beside you. You should rest…more," she added as an after thought as she began to move to the door.

"Weasley," he called as she opened the door. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because everyone else has more important things to do," she answered bitterly, closing the door a little harder than was strictly necessary.

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In the following days, he found that she was right. When they began to remove the numbing charms, pain shot through his body. For the next four months Ginny was always there with him. She left his side to sleep and occasionally to eat with whoever else was in this house. He rarely left the small room and when he did it was to venture down dusty uninteresting corridors. Not that he really minded. Everything hurt, but each day it hurt less and he could move more.

At first they hadn't talked. She'd done what she had to, in order ensure that he wasn't in too much pain and then sat curled up in the plush armchair in the corner, reading a book. Occasionally he saw her with a quill and parchment. Holiday homework, he surmised. He felt a pang of something as he thought that. There was no way they would ever let him back into school.

At first he was fine with that arrangement. Why the hell would he want to talk to the littlest Weasley? As time went by he could tell you exactly why. He had never been more bloody bored in his life!

They'd bickered more than talked when he first tried to engage her in conversation, before they broached neutral topics such as Quidditch. Slowly but surely conversation moved on to things more personal in nature. He found it easy to talk to her. He told her things he had never told a soul before and by the looked of shock that passed over her face as she spoke sometimes, he thought she did too. He loved making her laugh, loved watching her eyes light up. He told her silly jokes that he'd heard in the common room, just to see her roll her eyes and sigh at him.

He'd been there three months and she was taking him on his daily walk through the dank and moldy hallways of 12 Grimmauld Place when it happened. She was leaning against a wall waiting for him to catch up to her, an amused smile on her face.

"Hurry up you slow poke!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. She was gazing out the window and didn't notice as he closed the distance between them. She turned her head back towards him when he ran his hand down her arm.

"Mal-" she began but he cut her off, softly pressing his lips to hers. To his shock she didn't pull away. She returned the kiss as he slowly deepening it. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she snaked her arm around his neck. He pushed himself against her, flattening her back against the dusty wall.

No body noticed Ginny rarely left Draco's room in the following weeks. Not that it was really surprising. Potter, Granger and the Weasel King were off gallivanting round the countryside looking for the Horcruxes and the rest of her family was always busy with Order work. Molly Weasley would occasionally pop in to see how Ginny and Draco were getting on. Draco had jumped away from Ginny so quickly on one occasion that he pulled a muscle. Ginny said he also bit her lip. A claim he feverishly denied on the grounds he was far too skilled a snogger to do such a thing.

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He watched her pick at the rich chocolate cake as conversation raged around them.

"Finished?" he asked in a whisper as she began stabbing the cake her fork. She smiled sheepishly at him, nodding. Draco passed the half eaten and mutilated cake to the closest Weasley male, who on this occasion was Fred. He looked from Ginny to the cake with a frown but a glare from Draco made him hastily grab the plate and begin stuffing it into his mouth.

She was leaning heavily against him, her head resting on his shoulder. At least she would have been resting heavily on him had she been more that skin and bone. His arms were wrapped around her. One hand comfortably resting high on her thigh.

"Tired?" he asked, turning to look at her. She nodded in reply making no move to raise her self from his lap. "Time to go," he said gently pushing her off him whilst maintaining his grip on her to help her up. She nodded again. "We're off," Draco said loudly to the room, interrupting Ron's exaggerated tale of how he had saved the would be winning goal in his last Quidditch match. They had all been there. Everyone saw him almost fall off his broom as he dodged the bludger. He'd noticed only at the last minute, despite the screamed warnings from his teammates. They had all seen the quaffle hit him in the head as he slipped towards the ground. Draco got no small amount of glee from tormenting his brother-in-law with that fact.

"Already?" Ron whined, looking at Ginny. She nodded.

"I'm tired." No body replied to that. She had been getting tired more and more quickly over the last few months.

"Here are your cloaks," Arthur said, helping Ginny fasten her cloak and throwing Draco's cloak at him. It hit him squarely in the face, causing an up roar from the rest of the room. Even Ginny had trouble suppressing a giggle as she looked upon her husband.

He scowled at the Weasley's muttering under his breath about good-for-nothing-weasel-in-laws, as Ginny hugged each one of the said good-for-nothing-weasel-in-laws, in turn. They used a Portkey to get home. Ginny wasn't allowed to Apparate and flooing just made her feel sick. More and more magic was making her sick now.

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	2. Battles

**Hogwarts**

They were almost caught snogging by a flustered Arthur Weasley as he came bursting into Draco's room.

"Ginny, Draco," he said quickly. "So glad I found you." Ginny raised her eyebrows at her father.

"Dad?" she questioned.

"Well I have some good news for you both. You're both heading back to school today!"

"Why?" Ginny asked suspicion evident in her voice.

"Well, the new school year is beginning and you are both minors, well Draco's not but still uneducated, so naturally-" her father began awkwardly, his face flushing.

"The term started three weeks ago, Dad," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "What's going on?"

"Well your mother-"

"DAD!"

Arthur sighed, admitting defeat. "The Order has decided that now that Draco is recovered he is too much of a liability to keep around. They simply don't trust you not to run to your father with any and all information you may come into possession of while here. Why you would do that is a mystery to me." Draco was a little taken back with the older man's trust in him. He was right though. There was no way he was going to help his father and the Dark Lord after what they did to him. It dawned on Draco that that was probably why Mr. Weasley didn't think he was a risk. "And, Ginny, we think you should go back to school too. Your mother and I agree that you need an education and Hogwarts, despite what others believe, is still the safest place to be. Even without Dumbledore."

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It was harder for them to see each other while at Hogwarts. They went weeks without even catching a glimpse and were forced to correspond only by owl.

Ginny attended normal classes with the rest of the sixth years while Draco had private tutorials with teachers. He wasn't allowed the use of a wand unless under strict supervision, leading to many long, rant filled letters to Ginny complaining about how he was forced to live as a Mudblood. Ginny did point out that it was that attitude that got him in the situation as living like a Muggle but a short 'Do not deviate from the point, Ginevra' was all he sent in reply.

As Christmas neared, Ginny received an owl from her parents with the instructions to stay at school for the holidays and to stay out of trouble. She scowled at her parchment through breakfast before storming off to her first class of the day.

The already barren castle emptied further as the Christmas holidays began. Ginny woke excitedly on the first day of holidays. There were only four Gryffindors staying over Christmas and none of them were in her year. She would be completely alone all holidays! Free to visit Draco when ever she wanted, provided any ghosts, teachers or tattletale portraits didn't catch her of course.

She spent most of the holidays in Draco's room, much like she had at 12 Grimmauld Place, leaving only for meals and occasionally to sleep in her own room.

When classes resumed, they were forced back to the scarce secret meetings and owls. As exams loomed a new tension settled over the castle. Every teacher was tense. Professor Hercule worked them harder in Defense Against the Dark Art than even before and concentrated solely on practical application. They all knew what this meant. Voldemort was going to attack the castle and soon.

They didn't have to wait long. Students were celebrating finishing their exams when the first spells hit. The vacant Divination tower was the first to fall. Ginny and Draco felt the shock waves from his quarters in the dungeons.

They grabbed their wands and ran to the front of the school where Order members, Aurors, teachers and older students were already defending the castle. They dueled over the fallen bodies of their comrades as the battle raged. The Order was pushed back through the castle to the Great Hall by wave after wave of vicious Death Eaters.

The Death Eaters gave a primitive war cry as their Lord glided through the castle and into the Great Hall. He stood opposite Harry Potter, wand raised.

"The great Harry Potter," he hissed menacingly. "The Boy-Who-Lived, do not think I will make that mistake again!"

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**A.N** Sorry about the shortness. The next chapter is longer, promise.


	3. Hogwarts

**Battles**

As Voldemort fell defeated, a sickly gray, yellow light came smoothly from within his body. It hovered in the air for a moment before shattering with a blinding flash. Voldemort's limp and decaying body lay crumpled on the floor, the sword of Godric Gryffindor protruding from his chest.

A piercing scream echoed through the shocked silence of the Hogwarts Great Hall. Draco turned instinctively, wand raised. He watched, horrified, as Ginny's body fell, her back arching, the same sickly gray, yellow light being ripped from her body. It didn't withdraw from Ginny's body as it did Voldemort's. It fragmented as it clawed its way out of her. Draco rushed to her, hauling her into his arms. His eyes widened as her head lolled backwards, her eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Get your hands off my sister," Ron said in a deceptively soft voice, a look of intense fury and hatred in his eyes. Draco didn't release her; he simply stood, carrying her away for the last of the battle. A few deluded Death Eaters still stood their ground despite their Lord's defeat. The Order was dispatching them easily now. Draco walked purposefully to the Hospital Wing, his footsteps steady.

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She lay there for three days unmoving, Madam Pomfrey attending to the many wounded around them. The Weasleys surrounded her bed, watching her face silently; Harry held her hand as they waited for her to regain consciousness. Even the twins sat quietly. Silent tears ran down every face. Draco saw everyone as he stood close to her bed, covered by an invisibility cloak, never leaving her side.

A yelp soft yelp brought everyone's attention to Harry. "Ginny," he said excitedly, gripping her hand.

"Draco?" she said softly, so softly that Draco didn't think anyone but he and Harry had heard. "Draco?" she said again, slightly louder than before.

"I'm here," he said, throwing of his clock, reaching for hand and gripping it tightly. She turned her head to him, her eyes still closed.

"My head… Feels big... Is it big?" she asked, her voice tiny and faintly raspy. Her fingers curled weakly around his hand.

"No," he breathed softly, a relieved smile playing on his lips. "It's head sized."

He leaned in, kissing her forehead carefully. Her eyes fluttered open briefly. She smiled slightly as she saw him before closing her eyes quickly.

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That was when their relationship became known to her family. To say they were unimpressed was perhaps a bit of an understatement. They had waited till she regained her strength to question her at any length but wouldn't permit Draco see her.

He paced in his room, snapping maliciously at the house elves that tended to him, waiting for Ginny to be released.

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Twelve days, four hours and approximately twenty-seven minutes later, a soft knock at his door interrupted his brooding.

"Piss off!" he yelled harshly, not bothering to open the door.

"Stop being a bastard, Draco, and let me in!"

He yanked the door open before she finished her sentence, enveloping her in a crushing embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing lightly. She pulled away from him. Draco swallowed his disappointment as she stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her.

"You mind if I sit?" she asked, indicating to the sofa in front of the raging fire. "I'm not exactly supposed to be out of bed yet." Draco felt a wave of guilt for the crushing hug he had imposed on her before. He sat beside her, her legs curled beneath her.

"How do you feel?" he asked concerned. "Do you need a drink or something to eat? A pillow? Blanket?" She laughed at him, entwining her fingers with his between their bodies.

"I'm fine," she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Everything's a bit muddled but I feel alright."

"Muddled?"

She nodded. "Things don't quite make sense. Things that I know should, don't. Things that I know shouldn't, do. Memories don't fit. Don't belong to me." The firelight played off her hair and face as she spoke. He noticed the slightly dull look that inhabited her unfocused eyes as he stared at her. "Are you okay?" she asked abruptly.

"Fine," he answered. "Minor cuts and bruises."

"Good. I was worried. They wouldn't tell me anything about you." She released his hand and moved forward into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her body. After a minute he pushed her away slightly, bringing a hand up to cup her face. He kissed her softly, his tongue running along her bottom lip, begging entrance which she granted readily.

"I love you," she breathed against his lips, pressing her forehead on his.

"I lo-" Draco was cut off by the sound of the door slamming against the stone wall behind it, an irate Weasley, one Potter and a Granger, storming in. Ginny turned, shifting awkwardly, looking at them in shock.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH MY BABY SISTER, MALFOY?" Ron roared, pointing his wand at Draco.

"Ron, calm down," Ginny said softly and calmly as she got up shakily from the sofa. "He's not doing anything to me."

"Bull!" Harry spat, "He put you under some kind of love spell. That's the only way you'd want him over me!"

"And people say I'm conceited," Draco muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"'Mione. Now," Ron said coldly.

"Ostendo verum," she said, pointing her wand at Ginny. It hit her squarely in the chest, a light blue haze surrounding her.

"You BASTARD!" Ron growled, charging at Draco. Draco wasn't paying any attention to the Weasel King, his attentions focused solely on Ginny. She swayed slightly as the haze cleared before slumping to the floor.

"Ginny!" he yelled, cradling her head in his lap. Her breath was coming in short, harsh gasps. "What the hell did you do to her, Granger?" he snarled dangerously.

"N-n-nothing," she stuttered, staring at Ginny in horror. "It was just a spell to see if there were any other spells on her! B-blue means no spells. It shouldn't have hurt her."

"Get Pomfrey."

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Draco had never felt so broken in his entire life when Madam Pomfrey told them why Ginny collapsed when the spell hit her. She was dying.

"We found some notes on it in Albus' office a short time ago," Pomfrey explained. "Albus thought that there was a chance that Ginny and You-Know-Who were somehow connected because of that unfortunate incident in her first year. He speculated that during the process of passing his soul through her, in order for him to become corporeal, some of it was left behind. Albus wrote that killing You-Know-Who, would kill Ginny too as it would destroy part of her soul along with the final piece of his. He thought that there was the possibility that one could not live without the other. It appears that he was right," she said solemnly, breaking the news to the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and a hidden Draco, as gently as possible.

"How long… How long d-does she have?" Molly sobbed.

"According to Albus' calculations, Molly, she has about two years."

"But she'll only be 19 in two years," Molly said softly.

Draco stood, unable to move, as the people in front of him tried to think of ways to save Ginny. He was going to lose her. He was going to lose the woman he loved.

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For almost a year they exhausted every resource. Every doctor, magical or Muggle, who might have been able to help, was brought to Ginny or in rare cases Ginny to them. Draco funded it all. Money was no object. He had inherited every cent his mother and father had, but it wasn't enough. No matter how much he spent, who he procured, how much research they did, nothing was found that would help her.

Finally she just got sick of it. She didn't want to live the rest of her life in hospitals and laboratories being poked and prodded. She wanted to _live_ the rest of her life.

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They had married in a small ceremony in the Burrow's garden, only family and close friends present. Her family, exempting Ron of course, was reluctantly accepting of Draco and Ginny's relationship, wanting her to have what ever made her happy in the short time she had left.

They went to Italy for their honeymoon. They spent a month traveling around seeing every attraction that caught Ginny's fancy. Draco dragged her to a few things that he couldn't leave Italy with out seeing, mainly art galleries, which Ginny could not understand his fascination with. They'd spent first the two and a half years of their marriage traveling. Seeing every place Ginny had ever dreamed of and others she'd never even heard of. Hundreds of photos of their travels decorated the walls and mantelpieces of the town house they shared. Ginny hadn't wanted to move into Malfoy Manor and Draco couldn't say he had too many fond memories of the place.

A few months ago they'd stopped traveling though. Ginny wanted to spend time with her family. They'd seen at least one red head a day for the last four months, as well as old school friends of Ginny's. She had outlived Dumbledore's prediction, but her slowly diminishing form and the rapidly darkening smudges beneath her eyes, told everyone that she had little time left.

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Draco was lying on his back his arms folded behind his head as he waited for Ginny to finish getting ready for bed. He watched as she crawled into bed, laying her head on his chest, one leg thrown over his possessively. She wore a deep purple nightgown with a V-neck, the hem stopping mid thigh. He sighed as she wriggled slightly, changing her position.

"What time is the Weasel King coming tomorrow?" he asked.

"Around noon," she answered.

"Should be a good game."

"You only think that because you know that the Cannons will get crushed and Ron'll be depressed," Ginny said looking up at him.

"Thus making it a very good game," he countered, a smirk on his face. She laughed softly shaking her head before planting a soft kiss to his chest. He expected her to stop and go to sleep after that but was pleasantly surprised when she continued to kiss along his chest. When he realized she was trailing her kisses along one of the many scars that marred his body, he stiffened. Suddenly becoming uncomfortable.

"Gin," he said, trying to shift away from her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing you," she said in an innocent tone.

"Yes, I realized that, but why are you kissing me i there?" /i 

"So, every time you see your scars, you'll think of me," she said, punctuating each word with a kiss. He gasped when he felt her small hand slip beneath the elastic of his pajama bottoms, caressing him.

"Gin," he said in a breathy voice. "Stop."

"Why?" she pouted, bringing her face level with his. "You want me," she said, indicating to the tenting of his silk pants.

"Well, yes, but-" She kissed him hard, silencing him.

"And I want you," she said breaking the kiss. "So what's your problem?"

"You were tired," he said weakly, his resolve slipping as she wrapped her fingers around him again.

"And now I'm not," she said huskily, a seductive smile on her face, her hand slowly moving up and down his length.

"Gin," he said, his composure not quite broken yet. "I really think that you should stop that…in a minute."

Ginny smiled broadly, bringing her lips to his once more. "I win," she muttered in between the soft kisses they shared. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bunching the silky material of her nightgown in his hands, slowly bringing it up her back.

His hands traveled over her exposed skin, up her bare arms, throwing the silken, purple garment to the floor. She continued trailing kisses along his body, pushing his pants down. He wriggled gracefully out of them, swapping their positions as he did so. He was careful to support his weight on his elbows and knees, so as not to crush her. He captured her lips in a passionate kiss before peppering her jaw. He nipped gently at her neck, sliding carefully down her body. She moaned as he captured a pert nipple in his mouth sucking lightly, his hand massaging her other breast. She gasped and bucked her hips as his hand traveled further down her body, his thumb teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center.

"Draco," she moaned. He lifted his head, a smirk on his face. He trailed his tongue down her body, swirling round her belly button before repeating the action on her clitoris. She fisted her hands, scrunching the sheets between her fingers as he continued to tease her.

He looked up at her as her head thrashed upon the pillows, a smug smile on his face as she uttered a soft scream. He left a trail of kisses as he made his way back up her body, capturing her lips once more.

He groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing her heated core closer to him. Her eyes fluttered closed as he slowly embedded himself into her. Her arms encircling him as he began to move with slow, deep thrusts.

They moved together, their speed and intensity gradually building, striving towards the pinnacle. They came together, her breathy cry in unison with his groan of her name. Her muscles clamping down upon him as he released himself into her. Her nails leaving crescent moon indents on his back as he buried his head in her hair.

He moved off of her quicker than he would have liked, the fear of crushing her still in his mind. He pulled her to him as he lay panting on his back. She turned her head to him, a smile of contentment on her beautiful face.

"I love you, Draco," she said, gazing into his mercury orbs.

"I love you too, Gin," Draco breathed, his lips descending on hers once more. "I love you so much."

He fell asleep listening to her breathing, her back pressed against his chest. Her hair tickled his face, his arm draped across her abdomen, fingers entwined.

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He awoke in that same position. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder before he turned his head, searching for the clock sitting on his bedside table.

"Gin," he whispered in her ear. "Its ten o'clock. Your brother is going to be here soon." He kissed her along her shoulder and up her neck. He paused as he reached her chin. "Gin," he said, shaking her lightly. She didn't stir. His hand shook as he brought it to her neck, feeling for a pulse. He found none.

His face an expressionless mask, he pulled her body to him more tightly. Mimicking their position as they fell asleep the night before.

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**A/N:** The 'my head feels big' line is from Buffy season two, episode 22, Becoming Part Two. Willow says it to Oz. Draco's answer is Joss' work also. (Is it bad I know that off the top of my head?)


	4. Ginevra Molly Malfoy

**Ginevra Molly Malfoy**

At twelve thirty Ron knocked on their bedroom door. With his eyes squeezed shut he pushed it open.

"Right. Gin, Malfoy, stop whatever you're doing and get up!" he said, attempting to put some semblance of authority into his voice. For additional protection against the sight of his sister in bed with Malfoy, he covered his still tightly shut eyes with his hand. "If you don't hurry up we'll be late."

"She's not going, Weasley," Draco said quietly, his back facing Ron. Ron's face flushed with anger. He did put up with Malfoy for Ginny, most of the time, but sometimes the git had it coming.

"Yes she bloody well is," Ron said through gritted teeth. "Unless _Ginny_ says she doesn't feel up to it and even then I'm going to be right-"

"Ron," Draco interrupted softly. Ron's ears snapped to attention. Draco never called him Ron, unless Molly was giving Draco _that_ look. "She's not going anywhere anymore."

"W-w-what?" Ron croaked, dropping his hand from his eyes. He walked around to the other side of the large bed and looked upon Ginny's pale face. "Gin, wake up." When she didn't respond he called her again, louder this time.

Ginny's eyes remained closed, her body unmoving. Ron's eyes bulged, his mouth dropping open. He backed away from the bed, knocking into a cabinet. A single photograph of Draco and Ginny fell to the ground. The glass shattering over their smiling faces. Ron slid down the wall, his eyes locked on Ginny.

"What the hell is taking you so …long?" Fred asked as he bustled into the room, taking in the scene before him: Ron slumped against the wall, his face tear streaked; Draco holding Ginny tightly in bed; the broken photograph.

"I'll call mum," Fred croaked, swallowing loudly. He turned quickly on his heels, almost tripping on his own feet, and walked stiffly from the room.

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A dressed Draco rummaged through his wife's drawers searching for something for her to wear. The purple nightgown that he had discarded earlier just wasn't suitable. He settled on a long emerald nightgown with a more modest cut instead.

Gently he dressed his wife before lifting her into his arms, her head nestled safely in his chest. He carried her slowly down the stairs to where many tear stained Weasleys awaited him. As he stepped off the final stair, Ginny's lifeless arm slipped of her silk-covered stomach, hanging limply. He felt her cooling fingers brush his leg as her arm swayed gently. Gingerly Harry moved forward and slowly lifted her thin arm, resting it safely on her abdomen.

Draco walked purposefully through the home he had shared with the woman cradled in his arms, to the fireplace. On the mantle sat a golden disc. A Weasley, he wasn't sure which one, he only saw the hair, slipped the golden disc between his fingers. With a muttered word, Draco activated the Portkey, sending him instantaneously to St. Mungo's.

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"Mr. Malfoy," a nurse cried, running to greet him. "Bring Mrs. Malfoy this way. We'll have our finest healer assigned to her."

"That won't be necessary," Draco said coldly. "If you would point me in the direction of the morgue, I will leave you to tend to other patients."

The nurse faltered as a series of loud 'pops' echoed through the disinfected halls. Looking from Ginny to Draco and then behind them at Ginny's family, the nurse stuttered, "Mr. Malfoy, I can't- can't possibly allow you-" Draco fixed the small woman with a deathly glare. She gulped and caved beneath it.

"Follow me," she said softly.

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Wordlessly Draco followed the nurse to the lower levels of St. Mungo's, his slightly heeled shoes clacking loudly on the hard floor. The morgue attendants silently moved out of Draco and the swarm of Weasley's way, as they entered the cold room.

Gently and carefully Draco laid Ginny on one of the silver gurneys. He slowly lowered her head, brushing stray strands from her face. He brushed a soft kiss on her forehead before turning on his heel and walking out, his cloak billowing behind him.

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Hundreds attended Ginny's funeral. Many of the surviving faces from the war had come to bid her farewell, as well as many who wished to pay their respects to the Weasley family. Draco stood stoically throughout, his face expressionless. The funeral passed in a blur. He remembered nothing clearly; but knew that he had risen to give his eulogy and could vaguely remember others do the same. He remembered shaking countless people's hands but could see no faces. All the voice of condolences merged. He didn't cry: Malfoys never cried.

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Three days later, the Weasleys and Draco met to lay fresh flowers on her grave. Each in turn went up laying a bunch, but Draco came forward and laid a single flower. A frangipani. Her favourite. He laid the flower with great care and stood, turning to leave.

"You're not going to stay a bit longer?" Arthur asked softly, his voice choked from his tears. Draco froze.

"Why should I?" he asked coldly.

"What do you mean why should you?" Ron almost yelled. Hermione grasped his forearm, stopping him from moving forward.

"Why should I?" Draco repeated, chuckling coldly. "I'm glad she's dead," A collective gasp came from the Weasleys. "I'm free of her now. No longer bound to a pathetic Weasley. I hate her," he spat, turning back to the white marble gravestone. The golden words "Ginevra Molly Malfoy", met his gaze, shimmering in the morning sun. "You hear that?" he yelled at the gravestone. "I **_HATE_** YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I'M GLAD YOU'RE DEAD!"

The Weasleys stared at the normally emotionless man, frozen in shock as he yelled.

"You're a bloody liar! You promised!" he screamed, his face an uncharacteristic shade of red from the exertion. "You promised you would never leave me!" Draco collapsed onto the grass, tears streaming down his face. "I fucking hate you, you liar," he sobbed. "You promised you would never leave me. How am I meant to live without you?"

Molly moved forward, dropping forward and embracing Draco as he cried. She stroked his hair as he sobs increased in volume. "I don't know how to live without you."

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After a while he quieted down in Molly's arms and she hauled him up, leading him to an

apparition point. She apparated him to the Burrow, afraid he would splinch himself in his unstable state. As soon as he recognized his surroundings, Draco made his way up the stairs to Ginny's childhood room.

Molly followed quickly picking up a leather bound diary from the kitchen table as she went.

"Draco," she said sitting down beside him on Ginny's bed. He didn't turn to her or even acknowledge that she had walked in, but Molly knew he was listening. "In Ginny's will," She felt him stiffen beside her. "She left certain…instructions. She wanted you to read this. I think it's her diary. She said it was for you and only you to read."

Molly took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that had swelled in her eyes the moment she entered her daughter's room. She placed the diary into his hands and stood. "Draco," she said, as she reached the doorway, not bothering to turn around. "You will always be welcome here. Remember that."

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He looked at the book in her hand. He recognized it all to well. Ginny had bought it in Rome on their Honeymoon. She had written in it everyday, but had never allowed him to read it before. She even put magical locks on it to stop him.

There were no locks now. The diary fell open easily. He turned to the first page and was met with Ginny's neat hand. He inhaled sharply at the expected sight.

_Dear Draco,_

_I thought about making a diary of the last years of my life but found that I couldn't, so I have decided that this is b not /b a diary but letters to you._

_At the moment we're in Italy on our Honeymoon. I'm watching you right now as you storm around the room, ranting about 'bloody Muggles and their dangerous contraptions'. We've been here three days and this is the first time you've complained (okay not the first time but this is your first big rant) about the Muggles. I thought you did a commendable job (by your standards at least). Although I did think you were going to have permanent wrinkles on your nose from all the scrunching you did on the aeroplane trip over here…_

He read for hours, sitting upon Ginny's childhood bed, oblivious to the darkening of the night sky. Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he read Ginny's words. He could hear her voice in his head as he read.

_Sometimes I wonder what our children would have looked like. Would they have had the flaming Weasley hair or platinum blond like yours or something in between? Would they have had your brilliant silver eyes? Would they sneer? Be a catcher or a seeker? Gryffindor or Slytherin? Maybe Ravenclaw? I'd love to see your face if they were in Hufflepuff! Would we have a beautiful little girl or a handsome little boy? I wonder what they would be like. What they would like, how they would speak, what their little friends would be like. I know that it's stupid and pointless seeing as how we will never have any children but I still wonder sometimes. I know you'll be a great father to some lucky kids one day. I just hope they know how lucky they are…_

Draco felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest while he read. Her 'letters' were riddled with hopes for him after she was gone. Career, love, marriage, children. He'd never though about any of it. Life without her was incomprehensible. Worthless. He couldn't do it. She had _been _his life since the moment he awoke to her voice in 12 Grimmauld Place.

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Molly watched her one and only son in law, read her daughter's final message to him. She swore to herself that she would stop at nothing to fulfill the promise she had made to her Ginny, mere weeks ago.

"Promise me that you'll look after him, mum," she had said steadily, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Promise me that you'll make sure he's happy. That he finds someone," Molly watched helplessly as tears began to roll down her beautiful little girl's face. She seemed so much older than her twenty years. "Don't let him push everyone away," Molly couldn't hold back her sob as she listened to her daughter's words. "Promise me that you'll make sure that he has everything that we couldn't."

She had promised of course and she now watched as the man her daughter had loved, sobbed on her beloved baby's bed. She watched as he reached the final pages, reading the heartfelt words through bleary eyes.

_So lately, I've been wondering, who will be there to take my place. When I'm gone, you'll need love to light the shadows on your face. If I could, then I would I'd go wherever you will go. Way up high or down low, I'll go wherever you will go. And maybe, I'll find out, a way to make it back someday. To watch you, to guide you: through the darkest of your days._

_If a great wave shall fall upon us all, then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you. _

_But I know now, just quite how, my life and love might still go on. In your heart, in your mind, I'll stay with you for all of time but if I could I'd go wherever you will go. I'll go wherever you will go. _

_I love you, my Draco._

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**A/N:** The final entry is an edited version of The Calling's, Wherever You Will Go.


End file.
